


Hot Dripping Down

by Kiyara_Iris



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drunkenness, I giggled a few times at least, Light Angst, M/M, Random & Short, there's some humor, waxing poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyara_Iris/pseuds/Kiyara_Iris
Summary: 'As you stagger to your feet in inebriated grace I wonder if it was wrong of me to suggest the drinking contest once more, knowing too well your intolerance to such pastimes and that it feeds this hunger inside me.'A short piece in which Gai watches Kakashi dance.





	Hot Dripping Down

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally had a completely different plot, but this emerged and I found it slightly captivating. Plus, I love the idea of Gai constantly waxing poetic in his mind. Enjoy ^_^
> 
> After-posting note: I feel like I should have added that the song I pictured for this scene for months before writing is Childish Gambino's 'Feels Like Summer'. It's a beautiful, intense song that is both sensual and haunting. Plus, I've done a drunken sway to it a few times and its quite appropriate for that sort of thing.

               The hottest day in Konoha I asked myself, when does youth grow into adulthood in such a way that it retains the essentials and gives way to the pushing new? You my friend were the image I followed in this thought, meandering around memories and feelings that I once thought made up the entire of my whole. And yet there were parts unwritten, that came directly from you, things decided in such feverish exactitude that I couldn’t help but give way to them. Give my entire being into your thoughts and the way you perceive the world. My body is my standard, but your mind is my delight; your body the temple that I worship in unworthy supplication. You are reason, and goal, and love. My Rival.

               “H’y Gai, I ch’ll’nge y-!” Your voice in the throes of alcoholic delight is such a familiar slur the words sort themselves automatically. I can’t hep but blink, smiling warmly, my body a delicious heat of exerted muscles. Your interest in our Youthful excursions is often tempered by the laconic nature you wrap in like a safety blanket, but today there is a heat in your eyes to match the shimmering warmth in the air. I smolder.

               “What is the challenge my friend?” As you stagger to your feet in inebriated grace I wonder if it was wrong of me to suggest the drinking contest once more, knowing too well your intolerance to such pastimes and that it feeds this hunger inside me.

               “Dance! Me firs’!” I settle deliciously into the comfort of my couch, wishing we had stumbled instead to your spartan dwellings, to lay upon the only afforded furniture: your bed. To be laid out in the cradle of your intimate space is, admittedly, a favored delicacy; the diluted scent of your body permeating the bedding so that each shift wafts you deep into my lungs. I’m pulled from these delightful musings as you switch the radio to life, the loud screech of static breaking the comfortable tension. Your elegant fingers twiddle the dial and I’ll admit the sight arouses more than a slight interest in me.

               It would not be even close to the first time my ardor has delighted in your presence, but I’ve long given up guilt over such trifles as you ostensibly do not care to upbraid me for taking advantage of your sensuality. Far from a blow to the ego, I can only hold back tears of joy that our friendship stands so firmly, so concretely, that the happenstance of lust is not worthy of embarrassment or rage.

               A soft trembling tune takes to the air and your body slithers into the beat so effortlessly I wonder if there has ever been a being that moves with such decisive beauty. Hands in pockets, you sway through drunken steps with unknowing precision, a transcendental joy displayed in each tight swivel and flex of muscles.

               “Beautiful…” I rumble into the air and your eye half opens, hands coming up to unzip the vest hiding your body from me, hips twisting seductively in time with the flowing music. You fling the garment haphazardly across the room and something smashes, but I care little for the noise. You are captivating, and I eagerly held captive. Your entire body is singing to me that it craves the attention, loves that I’ve lavished it upon you since our childhood. I see you, my friend; and you are beyond breathtaking.

               You clearly see my unwavering attention, and something shudders through your body, pushing its movements into an even greater swing, twisting and undulating muscles till I’m panting, unable to look away. Fingers hook into the edge of your shirt and there’s a slight struggle as it’s pulled up and catches around broad shoulders, but even the ensuing tussle moves perfectly with the melody and I’m enraptured. Finally, finally, muscles are on complete display and as you move back into a more sedate pace, the lines and hollows of your body come into sharp relief, the heavy sheen of sweat beaded on pale skin begging to be licked and caressed away.

               I would have you in any position you desired my love. I would take you to ecstatic heights and keep you after. Your body is screaming at me to take what’s being offered, but I’m smothered by desires so long in the making I’m sure they will be my undoing. Your hands travel the routes mine have often traversed in fantasy; touching at your stomach and smearing the rivulets of sweat dripping down, moving up around defined pecs, over muscular shoulders, running teasingly up that swan-column of a neck and into your wild, bed-tossed mane of hair, gripping as your eye closes in seeming ecstasy.

               Your other hand is not idle, weaving through the air like a silken shawl snapping and dancing on the breeze, moving down until clever fingers find the clasp of your pants and they’re undone, gone, kicked away to god knows where and there’s mind-numbing amounts of creamy skin on display begging to be seen, to be touched, to be marked in passion.

               “Kakashi…” Eye snaps open, grin wickedly curved beneath your mask. You know what you’re doing, you know how much my body longs for you. Were circumstances different, I would pull you onto my lap and give into the searing carnal pleasures of my dreams.

               “Like wha’ ya see Gai?” Your adorable slurring grounds me, reminds me this won’t last much longer, and you hum in delight as I nod, eyes roving desperately over your hills and valleys, aching to trek the expanse of your continent and lay claim to all its lands.

               “You are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen Kakashi.” The swaying has slowed, shoulders rolling gently through the last strings of the song, eye never wavering from mine.

               “Gai-” Breathed like a promise. I watch, saddened and yet resigned as you take two steps back, plunking gracefully onto your ass on my bed and then your entire body melts backwards, asleep before you even hit the mattress.

               How many times have you danced for me, my beloved? How many times have we gone through this drunken challenge and I’ve been too weak to stop giving in it, too entranced to stop your attempts to seduce me, too cowardly to ask if you remember when you wake each morning in only your underwear, myself laid out on whatever surface I've fallen to. I wonder if someday we’ll talk about this, if there’ll come a time I’ll be the one to dance for you…if you will experience the same delight in my body. Until then I’ll survive as I have for years my love, with your drunken decadence and a dream.


End file.
